


Wardrobe Malfunction

by Esmethewitch



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blackmail, Crack, Dom Mitaka, Embarrassment, Humor, Hux is a troll, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Blood, OSHA in space, Poor Dopheld Mitaka, Semi-Public Sex, background kylux, more humor than smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmethewitch/pseuds/Esmethewitch
Summary: Dopheld Mitaka and Thanisson get caught having a little dirty fun at the end of their shift. Thanisson thinks quickly and deflects suspicion, but this subterfuge sets in motion a chain of events that neither of them is prepared for.





	1. Bad Idea

Lieutenant Mitaka grabbed Petty Officer Thanisson roughly by the shoulders and shoved him into the refresher wall, Thanisson’s eyes widening as he gave a little gasp.

“You double-crossed me, and you didn’t think about what the consequences would be,” growled Mitaka as he reached for the standard-issue knife in his thigh sheath.

Thanisson tried to school his features into an expression of fear or even surprise, but that didn’t last long and soon he was smirking. They both knew that his unspeakable betrayal consisted of nothing more than eating the last biscuit at their mid-morning tea break. And that the “consequences” of this heinous crime were nothing more than a good hard fucking. That it was in the fourth-floor refresher at the end of the hall was a small detail. Their only other options were supply closets or Mitaka’s quarters, if he was entirely sure that his roommate would be out for the evening. Thanisson suffered in the bottom bunk of a quad. There was no privacy to jerk off in there, much less sneak his lover in. Hardly anyone came this way. They were fine.

Mitaka decided the knife could wait. He ran a hand through Thanisson’s pomaded blonde hair and cupped his cheek, then slapped him in the face. This left a light pink mark. The smirk was gone. He didn’t hit that hard, just enough to remind Thannison that this concept for roleplay was his idea. “I want you to be rough with me,” his boyfriend whispered to him when they first discussed this. “Pull a knife on me, push me around…”

“No blood, though,” Mitaka stated. That was a major turn-off for him. He’d had assassin training. In his opinion, many common and controversial fetishes originated in the minds of people who had never truly experienced those things. Thannison grinned.

“Yeah, I don’t want you to actually cut _/me_. I’m not into that. But I wouldn’t mind if you cut away my clothes. Kriff, I’d really like you to cut my shirt away, if you’re comfortable trying that. Like always, if it squicks you out, we can stop it right then and there.”

Mitaka took a sip of his herbal tea. “Good point. If I’m actually hurting you, or even if your leg cramps up and you need a break, you’ll use our safeword, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll just say ‘Snoke’ and end it all.” Thanison grimaced. “We need a better safeword, to be honest. I mean, if something just needs a minor adjustment, I don’t want to think about him and kill the mood.”

Mitaka thought for a minute. This was a very good point. And if Snoke could read minds, could he be summoned like the demons in the stories his mother told him years ago when some hapless mortal spoke his name? The thought of Snoke appearing before himself and Thannison after a break from some kinky sex that didn’t go quite right, pallid wrinkles, golden bathrobe, Force-powers and all would haunt his nightmares for some time to come. “How about we use the stoplight system for adjustments, and the safeword for when we have to stop everything then and there?”

Thanisson nodded. “Sounds good.”

And so, after Mitaka hit Thanisson, he let his blade shine in the fluorescent overhead lights. Thanisson’s breath hitched.

“Color?” Mitaka asked. They’d never done anything quite like this before. He glanced down and saw that the bulge in Thanisson’s trousers was growing.

“Green.”

Mitaka smiled and rested the flat of the blade against Thanisson’s throat. Originally, he’d wanted to do this with a plastic butterknife stolen from the canteen for reasons of safety, but Thanisson took one look at it and said that the usage of this implement would either make him think about lousy canteen food while having sex, or get him inappropriately aroused while trying to choke down lousy canteen food with his coworkers. “Besides, safety is a moot point on this ship, Taka, “ he’d argued. “Snoke’s pet Force-Sensitive kills people, none of the catwalks have railings, and the Stormtrooper armor gets them killed faster.”

“Do you want to actually get hurt in a very unsexy way and have to explain the injuries to medbay?”

Thanisson sighed. “You’ve got a point. I guess that’s why you’re the one in charge when we mess around like this. You’re good at it, you know. I wish you’d do it with other people, too.”

“What, fuck them?” Mitaka scoffed. “I thought you were happy to be exclusive with me.”

Thanisson rolled his eyes. “No, you nerf-herder. I mean, say what you’re thinking, stand up for yourself, and don’t let them walk over you. You can boss me around and it’s hot, I like that. But don’t just stand there and take it when Peavey talks over you, Hux doesn’t understand the first thing about workflow, and Canady tries to do your job for you.”

“They outrank me.”

“They treat you like a doormat because you let them do it. I’m not saying talk back to them, I’m saying speak audibly and claim credit for the things you kriffing did for your team.”

_You’re one of the few people I know who won’t mock me or try to backstab me when I do speak up,_ Mitaka thought but did not say. _ I can order you around only because I trust you to obey me. I do not trust them. Besides, most of the things I tell you to do are things you want to do anyway._ But it was heartwarming, knowing that his boyfriend believed in him.

And now said boyfriend was pressed against the tiled wall of the refresher. Mitaka kept one hand on the knife, taking care that only the flat touched Thanisson’s creamy, long neck. His other hand navigated down the front of Thanisson’s tunic, and stopped to palm his erection. Mitaka’s cock twinged in sympathy when he felt how hard his lover was. They were technically in a risky place to be having sex. It would have been a pleasure to edge Thanisson on for hours, but an empty room with a bed was a luxury they did not have.

“You used me,” Mitaka stated, taking care to keep his tone frigid. “And now, I’ll use you. I think I’ll take my pleasure from that little cock of yours, milk it till you can barely stand. But first, I want to see what I’m getting.” Now came the tricky bit. He yanked Thanisson’s tunic away from his body, putting a good three inches between fabric and skin, dragging the slighter man forward. He let the blade bite into the black fabric of the uniform collar, then let it whisper down the front of the garment. The catches and fastenings for their uniforms were in the back. It was horribly inconvenient, but now this bug was a feature as Thanisson’s tunic opened, baring skin that shone against the black uniform like a moon in the darkness of space. He sheathed the knife (he wanted to let it clatter to the floor, but safety came first), and then let his fingers circle Thanisson’s nipples, already ruddy in anticipation. Thanisson stifled a moan.

“That’s right, sweetheart, I want to hear you,” Mitaka murmured. “Let the whole deck know who you belong to, now.” He was admittedly nervous about this part. He thought that all of his dirty talk sounded like something lifted straight from a low-budget holoporn, though Thanisson seemed to like it well enough. He let his hands trail down to the fastening of Thanisson’s belt. His lover whimpered softly. They both came of age in crowded dormitories. Solitude and truly loud sex were only fantasies for them. He undid Thanisson’s buckle, and then got to work on the catch of the trousers.

The refresher door swung open, and someone walked in, the clicking of his boots stopping before the row of stalls. “Lieutenant Mitaka?” General Hux sounded concerned. “Are you alright in there? I know you’re off-shift now, but you looked really flushed towards the end of it. I asked Unamo where you went, and she said the last time she saw you, you were headed towards the refresher, and that was half an hour ago.”


	2. Trapped

They stood frozen in the tiny stall, neither man daring to move an inch. The footsteps moved closer. “I say, is someone in there with you, Lieutenant?”

“Yessir, it’s me, Petty Officer Thanisson. This is all my fault. I-I got caught—” Thanisson blurted out, and Mitaka wished he was dead. The wrapped condom and packet of lube was wedged uncomfortably between his datapad and his thigh in his front pocket, and he feared that if Hux made him exit the stall, they would fall out. “…in my trousers,” Thanisson continued, sweat rolling down his forehead. “The front of my tunic got all tangled up in the catch when I got dressed this morning, I was in a rush, sir, didn’t think to check it, the belt makes it go all flat, you know how it is.” _Play along,_ Thanisson mouthed. Mitaka gave a curt nod.

“S-so, sir, I realized that I couldn’t take off my tunic or unfasten my trousers, and that’s a major problem. I was so ashamed of karking up getting dressed, how hard can it be, that I locked myself in this stall and commed Mitaka, told him to come help me out and bring a spare uniform along. Because he’s my friend.” In that moment, Mitaka realized this would have been a perfect premise for a bad holoporn. One officer needs help getting out of his impractical uniform and summons a friend, then their redhead supervisor joins in the fun. But life was not a holoporn. General Hux was always terrifyingly professional in every regard. Chances were if he found out what disgustingly unprofessional acts his underlings got up to in the refresher, they would be looking at a write-up for public indecency. If they were lucky.  
There was a moment of dead silence outside. “I see,” General Hux said slowly. “What do you have to say, Mitaka?”

“It looked pretty bad,” Mitaka said. “I couldn’t save the zipper. I had to cut Thanisson out.”

Mitaka heard a sharp intake of breath. “Alright. Thanisson, it is a good thing for you that Mitaka was there. I want both of you to send me a full report by the end of the week.”

“Sir? What on?” Mitaka found himself blushing at thought of what that report might contain. _Uniform stayed uncomfortably on because Thanisson couldn’t be bothered to take it off himself. Fabric was ripped because we’re both a bit kinky, Thanisson a little more so than I, but we’re making it work.._

Hux sighed. “On the defective articles of clothing, of course. What twisted, what stuck, and how it prevented you from removing it normally. Getting trapped in one’s trousers or the tunic collar is a potential hazard, and you are not the first to experience problems with this line of uniforms. The manufacturers are considering a recall.”

“Really, sir? What happened?” Mitaka was curious. If any First Order uniform was due for a recall, it was the useless Stormtrooper armor.

“The blue dye in some of the officer tunics can cause rashes. Greatcoats have gotten tangled in machinery and this has resulted in strangulation. Some of the Stormtrooper helmet visors have been so opaque that entire squads have walked off catwalks to their deaths. And we’ve hardly the budget to replace the defective uniforms on top of our repair bills. A more salient question, Lieutenant, is what misfortunes _haven’t_ befallen the First Order as a result of shoddy uniform design or construction.”

“Oh.”

“Well, at least I know that I’m not the only one who’s had this happen,” Thanisson chimed in, with a nervous giggle. “That’s good to know, sir.”

Hux cleared his throat. It was odd to carry on a conversation with their boss entirely behind a partition. Without facial expressions, Mitaka had little indication whether Hux believed their story or not. “As far as Petty Officer uniforms go, Thanisson, you are the first officer to report a problem with them. With any luck, we’ll nip this in the bud before more people can get inconvenienced or hurt.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll write that report.” Thanisson was finally blushing in earnest.

Mitaka began to breathe again and think about how to end this painful conversation. “I brought Thanisson a change of clothes, as you know.” That was partially true. Thanisson, adept at planning ahead, had packed a spare tunic and pair of trousers. He could change in the stall. “I think we’re all set for now, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

“Alright, Lieutenant. It is a good thing that you two are looking out for each other. I shall see you both on the bridge a day from now. Have a good evening, and don’t get tangled in any more uniform pieces.” Hux strode out, and Mitaka waited for his footsteps to fade away.

“Kriff,” he breathed. “Thank the stars we’re not getting demerits for public indecency.”

“I think he bought it,” said Thanisson with a grin. “It’s all done. So long as we’re careful in the future and don’t fuck in this bathroom again, we’re fine.”

Mitaka hesitated. Something about this whole situation made him uneasy. “What if he didn’t?”

“Why wouldn’t he? We’re not getting yelled at and served with papers. You worry too much, Taka.”

“What if he’s just going along with your story to humor us? What if he _knows_, and he’s just seeing how long he can draw out our humiliation and agony for before we crack?”

“That only works for him if we feel shame about what we did today.”

“I do.”

Thanisson sighed. “I thought we were past all that.”  
“Not about having sex! I am fine with having sex. More than fine, actually. However, I strongly object to getting caught having sex by our supervisor!”

“You could have kicked your roommate out for a couple of hours.” Thanisson was dressing now, and he shrugged as he pulled the intact tunic over his shoulders.

“That would have been the second time this week.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right.” After running his fingers through his hair, Thanisson turned to Mitaka. “Do I look respectable now?”

Mitaka snorted. “After everything we’ve done, I don’t think I can call you respectable. But to the untrained observer, yes, you do.” The arousal coursing through his veins earlier had left when Hux walked in. “What should we do now? We get our day off tomorrow.”

“There’s a storage closet…”

Mitaka held up a hand. “I love you and your dick, Than, but I’m not in the mood for another close call.”

“I think there’s a screening of the holodrama _The Brave Little AT-AT_ on Deck Five. They usually have free candy at these things, if you get there early enough. We could go.”

“Sounds nice. I’ll focus on my childhood trauma instead of the horrors of today.”

Thanisson sputtered. “What do you mean, childhood trauma? I’ve met your parents. They seem normal.”

“_The Brave Little AT-AT _ karked me up. I was not prepared for the way that holodrama ended. The way Attie the AT-AT dissembled itself so the Rebels couldn’t take it prisoner and the Imperial troops couldn’t shut it down for protecting the kid made me sad. I cried, then my sister made fun of me for crying. Who the kriff thinks a long depression metaphor is a suitable topic for an animated children’s film?”

“We don’t have to go.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go. I need to forget. And I want candy. I’ll just…”

Thanisson laid a hand on Mitaka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk out with you if you start to cry.”

“Thanks, but I probably won’t. I’m not six anymore.”

His boyfriend threw his arms around his neck and pulled Mitaka into a kiss. “I know.”


	3. Resolution

Mitaka temporarily forgot about the defective uniform report that night. He’d gone to see the holodrama with Thanisson, and resolutely did not cry when the sentient AT-AT self-destructed, steeling himself until it began screwing itself back together and walking away as the credits rolled up. It was good to just lose himself in a fictional story and cuddle, sometimes. They went back to their respective quarters for bed, but Mitaka found himself unable to sleep. _Hux knows. He has to know. Why is he playing with us? What’s in it for him?_ After tossing and turning all night long (almost in sync with Sensor Officer Garth in the bed across the room), he finally drifted off.

The next morning, he blearily stumbled to the cafeteria for some caf and a muffin. As he sat down with his tray, he was accosted by Chief Petty Officer Unamo. She slid in beside him on the bench. “Taka! Just who I wanted to see this morning. How are you?”

Mouth full of caf and bags under his eyes, he pointedly shrugged at her. He hated morning people. To add insult to injury, only Thanisson was allowed to call him Taka. But he wasn’t in a position to make demands. He had to keep up this charade to get out of public indecency charges.

“Great! Hux sent me a memo, and I’ve been asking around, but I haven’t seen Thanisson yet. Can you tell me a bit about what happened to his uniform?”

_ What memo? Kriff. Now I’ll have to get to Thanisson before she does to make sure our stories match._ He sighed. “I don’t really know how he managed to do that to himself,” he began. “The bottom of the tunic got all tangled up with the zipper and the belt.” _That much he fabricated in front of Hux, he should remember it._ “Anyway, he couldn’t get out of it or rip the material, so I brought him a change of clothes and cut him out.”

Unamo had pulled out her datapad. “…cut him out…” she muttered to herself as she typed. “Was the uniform you brought him of the same make as the defective model, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Una. Is that a problem?” Two could play the Familiar Abbreviation game.

She gazed at him with the righteous indignation of one of the few people aboard this ship who still bothered with Health and Safety regulations. “Yes. What is there to prevent the same failure from happening again?”

Mitaka sighed. “It’s not like he has anything else to wear.” Inspiration suddenly struck, like the way he’d always imagined the Jedi got their Force-powers, simple space farm boys one minute and laser sword prodigies the next. “Thanisson was wearing a very old uniform when he got caught in it. I think the zipper was worn out, and that was why he got stuck so badly.” That much was true. Thanisson had wisely worn an old tunic destined for the garbage chute on the day he was going to be “cornered.”

“…old uniform, wear on zipper contributing to equipment failure,” she continued. “Okay. Just want to be sure we have everything here. Hux wanted a full report from you and Thannison, but I convinced him to let me take this one. I told him that you boys had been traumatized enough. Do you still have the uniform?”

_If only she knew the extent of our trauma. _Mitaka inspected the dregs of his caf and swirled the mug around. “No. We threw it out. Probably should have saved it, but space is at a premium with everyone these days.”

Unamo nodded. “It would have been nice to have, but it’s not necessary. Alright. I think I have all the info I need for now. Thank you. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else. Have a good day off.”

“Thanks.” Blessedly, she left in a whirl of bureaucratic efficiency. Mitaka had no more appetite for his muffin. He had to find Thanisson and warn him. _Where are you?_ he typed into his comm: _Can we talk about what happened yesterday?_

He received no answer for over half an hour. When it finally came, it read: _Trapped in a surprise mtg with Hux, sorry. will tell you when it’s over. don’t worry. _

Of course, this made Mitaka’s heart race and sweat roll down the back of his neck. He paced the halls, imagining the nightmarish ways this could end. Demerits. Demotion. Or worst of all, reassigned to different ships. Finally, he got a response:

_ walking away from his office, I think he bought it, we’re good. made up some bantha poodoo about worn-out zippers. that’s what you said, right?_

_Yes._

_I’ll tell you about it in the cafeteria at lunch_.

As Mitaka was negotiating his way back to his seat after getting food, Thanisson rushed over to Mitaka and threw his arms around Mitaka’s shoulders, nearly upsetting his laden tray. “Oof, let me put this down,” Mitaka chided. Glass of blue milk, sandwich, and cut vegetables safely upon a table, he held Thanisson tightly, running a hand down his back. Public displays of affection were frowned upon, but Thanisson was _shaking_, so that meeting hadn’t gone as smoothly as he’d implied. But worrying about demerits for public hugging after getting caught having sex was as good as locking the barn door after the fathiers had gone. “How was it?” he murmured, once the shaking stopped.

“Nerve-wracking. He had me draw where the zipper ‘caught’ on a diagram. I had to demonstrate the way I normally did the uniform up on a mannequin wearing one. Then, Hux lectured me on how I am a soldier serving in the Galaxy’s most feared army, not a child in kindergarten. I just nodded and said ‘yessir’ a lot. He didn’t mention you.” Thanisson smiled weakly. “So, I think we’re out of it.”

They sat down. “I didn’t enjoy that experience, all the same,” Thanisson admitted. “It was all I could do not to scream: ‘I know how to put on my bloody uniform!’ I didn’t crack, though. Even when he put on the dress code holofilm we had to watch in Academy, and then asked me if I had any questions when it ended.”

Mitaka squeezed Thanisson’s hand. “Good. I’m proud of you. Let’s never do this again.”

A passing Lieutenant that Mitaka sometimes saw on the bridge (Driu? Drina? Mitaka never interacted with her long enough for her name to take hold in his mind) overheard their conversation and frowned sympathetically. “Excuse me,” she said, “I don’t want to butt in, but I will tell you Hux does that with lots of people. I messed up the starching on my cap, and he dragged me down to the laundry and made me redo it while he watched. It was an awful experience but having that happen isn’t a reflection on you. It’s a reflection on how anal Hux is about the dress code.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Don’t worry about it too much.” Lieutenant Driu (or Drina) fell in line for sandwiches and started chatting with a Radar Technician in front of her.

“We’re safe,” said Thanisson.

“Yes, we are”, Mitaka replied. They managed to forget about the ordeal for two weeks. In the middle of one of his shifts, Hux called Mitaka into his office. Dopheld took deep breaths, telling himself that he had nothing to fear. He sat down in the chair in front of Hux’s desk and gripped the arms so tightly his knuckles shone white. He wanted to close his eyes, but that would make the situation even worse. The walls (adorned with the First Order logo, a framed copy of Hux’s Academy diploma, and a portrait of Tarkin) were slowly closing in on him.

“Relax, Mitaka. To look at you, anyone would think that you were to be shot after this.”

_Maybe I am,_ Mitaka thought but did not say. Instead, he nodded and said: “Yessir. Trying to relax, sir.”

Hux pulled up a few files from his datapad. “I have called you in here, Lieutenant, because you have great promise as a team leader, and as it happens there is a vacancy in our leadership. Were you acquainted with Captain Pritana, late of the Health Regulatory Unit?”

Mitaka gulped. “She was a hero, sir.” Pritana had been choked and thrown off a ledge to her death when trying to present Kylo Ren with papers detailing the Health and Safety regulations the man had broke during his first week aboard the _Finalizer_. Since then, there was nobody to supervise the erection of handrails over the thin catwalks that spanned the many chasms aboard the ship or ensure that the garbage chutes were all up to code.

“And you are capable of continuing her work,” Hux told him. “I’m assigning you as Health and Safety Committee head. You will lead meetings, inspect infrastructure, and report substandard conditions and equipment to me, in addition to your regular duties.” _Is this a promotion?_, Mitaka wondered. No, it wasn’t. Hux was clearly waiting for some sort of response. _They treat you like a doormat because you let them do it_, Thanisson’s words echoed in his head. Well, this was his moment to stand up for himself.

“I am flattered that you have considered me for this position, General,” Mitaka began, “but I do have to ask what benefits I would gain from it, in addition to a detailed list of responsibilities. Pritana was a Captain, and I am a Lieutenant.” He swallowed. This statement tacitly asked the question of a promotion, hopefully without being too forward.

“We have enough Captains as it is,” Hux said. “However, assuming these responsibilities would factor into the consideration of a promotion in the future.” Mitaka’s face fell.

“You would get reassigned to new quarters, though. The Health and Safety office is on the opposite side of the ship from the bridge.” Hux grinned smugly. “A single.”

“Oh.”

“Does that change your answer, Lieutenant? I rather think it should. Especially since it is easy to keep necessary supplies in a single bedroom and bring them out when needed. I can’t imagine that is possible in a refresher stall.”

“Necessary supplies, sir?” Mitaka searched Hux’s face for cues but found the General’s expression unreadable. _Wait, he mentioned the ‘fresher. KARK, HE KNOWS!_ A blush redder than the laser of Starkiller Base overtook Mitaka’s cheeks. Unfazed, Hux continued:

“Stars, do I have to spell everything out for you, Lieutenant? Given your extracurriculars, you should know by now. A bottle of water. Protein bars. Towels. Hand sanitizer. A complete first-aid kit with bacta. Safety scissors. Those are the essentials, at any rate. I find it is also good to have a pillow and weighted blanket close by, besides the setup for a cup of tea. It is best to be prepared for anything. In my opinion, there should be as much effort allocated to what comes after the…activities as the activities themselves.”

Mitaka sucked in a shocked breath. “O-Of course, sir. You’re absolutely right. I accept the position.” _ He knew. He knew all along._

“Good, Lieutenant. I expect you to hold a meeting next week and send me the minutes.”

“Yessir. Thank you, sir.” He fled the office. At that point, he would have agreed to anything just to leave.

That evening, Thanisson helped him move boxes into his new room. The single was little more than a glorified closet with a desk and a bed, but at least it was Mitaka’s glorified closet.

“How did you get this?” Thanisson set the box he was carrying down on the desk and bounced experimentally on the bed. It squeaked slightly less than Mitaka’s old mattress.

Mitaka cringed. “Remember how Hux lectured you on proper uniform use and dress code?”

“Yes. Why?”

“He lectured me on proper BDSM practices.”

Thanisson’s face was a rictus of horror. “He knows what we were doing, then.”

“He does. I’m at Hux’s mercy, now. That’s why I am leading a department normally headed by a Captain. I don’t have the pay raise, but at least I have my own room. I’m lucky that’s all he wants me to do. I hope it’s all he wants me to do. If he chooses to report us, our careers could be over.”

Thanisson frowned. “How does Hux know anything about proper BDSM practices in the first place?”

Mitaka laughed. “That is a very good question. And with everything he told me, he’s probably into more hardcore stuff than we are. I mean, he said I should have safety scissors, but you don’t like rope, so we’d never need them. I guess he can’t judge us, then.”

“Yeah. I wonder what he gets up to in his spare time…”

“I'd rather not think about it.”

***  
In the General’s private quarters, Hux was studiously typing up his monthly reports at his desk. He occasionally shifted from side to side in his chair, on rare intervals jerking slightly forward. Still, he typed on. Anyone observing this would think his movements nothing more than the tics of a person too long confined to a desk but for the muffled whimpering coming from beneath the polished wood. After a particularly loud and pathetic whine, Hux stopped work and scooted back in his chair. A muscular dark-haired man, hands bound behind his back and kneeling on the floor rested his head in Hux’s lap, drool leaking from his plush, swollen lips. He gazed up imploringly.

“Patience,” Hux admonished, in a firm tone not suited to the situation of his unbuttoned trousers and the desperate man below him. “Keep me warm and let me work ten more minutes. After that, we’ll see if you deserve to come tonight.” The man (he had a scar running down his face, and hair much too long to be regulation) began to shuffle back into position, but Hux stopped him.

“Wait. Turn around.”

The Master of the Knights of Ren obliged. Hux traced a hand down the pale, trembling back with its constellations of freckles and moles, stopping at his lover’s bound hands. He slipped a couple of fingers in between Kylo’s skin and the ropes. They were not too tight. “You may resume,” Hux told him. Kylo folded himself back under the desk, and Hux sighed happily and refreshed the page of his document. Everyone aboard this ship was being productive, in their own way. He had the means to ensure that this productivity continued. Life was good.


End file.
